The Definition of Insanity
by Badi-otaku
Summary: Just a little OS about Far Cy 3.


**Hey guys! So, I wrote this one-shot in French rather long ago, and yesterday I suddenly told myself: hey, why not translate it in English!? So there it is…!**

 **The main character is an OC, a girl who is victim of Vaas. He's gonna torture her, not physically, but mentally…**

 **Anyway, I won't say anymore on it, enjoy!**

* * *

The definition of insanity

 **-COME ON! DO IT! PULL THE FUCKING TRIGGER! COME ON!**

 **-I-I… can't!**

 **-DO IT!**

Tired of struggling, I resigned myself to do what he ordered me. The barrel of the weapon was aimed at the forehead of the hostage who was in front of me, tied. I didn't know him. He was scared, that was all I knew about him. I could read the fear in his eyes. He was trying to struggle, to scream. I was staring at him, I didn't want to hurt him, least of all kill him! But I was holding his life between my shaking hands. I was holding the revolver and I was watching him beg me with his eyes.

I had no choice. I pulled the trigger, sealing my eyelids. A simple "click" rang. When I realized, I opened my eyes, relieved. The pirate next to me walked to the hostage, friendly patted his shoulder, laughing.

 **-You damn lucky, hermano, I can't believe it! Ha! I fucking love this game!**

"This game", was Russian roulette. But playing with life isn't a game! It's horrible! Why was I forced to do that…?

He then turned to me and began:

 **-So, tell me, did I ever tell you the definition of "insanity"!?**

He started again, always the same question. I knew what I was supposed to answer. And I knew where this was going. I tried to articulate words. But he became impatient:

 **-ANSWER ME!**

 **-Y-yes!**

 **-So repeat it!**

 **-It's… doing… things…**

 **-WRONG! And we go again!**

There. It started again. He took the weapon from my hands, rotated the barrel and put it in its place before giving it back to me. The same game started again. My heart was beating at a furious pace. I was staring at my victim.

 **-I'm sorry…** I sobbed.

Once again I aimed, held my breath, contracted my muscles and pulled the trigger.

 _Po-pom, po-pom, po-pom, po-pom…_

 _Click._

Every time I heard this sound, my whole body relaxed. "The man's life was saved" I reassured myself. But quickly, I remembered what was to come next. The question… _his_ question:

 **-So, contrary to all expectations, I ask you again: did I ever tell you the definition of "insanity"?**

I answered right away, thoughtlessly:

 **-Yes!**

 **-So, what is it…?**

 **-It's… doing the exact… same thi- "fucking" thing… over and over again.**

 **-And…?**

 **-And… I-I don't know.** I whined with despair.

 **-WRONG ANSWER!**

Again, always, the same thing. Sobs, clattering metal, finger on the trigger, contracted muscles, anguish.

This time, I couldn't take anymore. A criminal, that's what I was. I made this man suffer with no reason. I was going to kill him, for sure. I could already hear his voice haunting me. I couldn't think anymore. They had already taken hold of my mind… fear, panic… insanity.

I tried to delay the timetable, or prevent it:

 **-Don't force me! PLEASE!**

But he was still shouting his terrible words to my ear.

 **-DO IT!**

Closed eyes, constricted muscles, breathless, fear in my chest, chaos in my mind. I gave up. The gun slipped from my hand and fell heavily to the ground. My body collapsed too. My knees first touched the ground. I curled up and pressed my head between my hands as if to make it explode, to stop everything. I screamed.

 **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!**

I was kneeling on the ground. I was swinging back and forth, tightening the vice of my hand around my head. I was crying, begging, screaming.

 **AAAA… please… stop… please… AAAAAA…**

The man crouched in front of me and hugged me.

 **-Eh-eh, chica. I know it's hard… but calm down, everything's alright.**

His voice had radically changed in a split of second. He was now speaking to me quietly, kindly, with a reassuring tone. He pulled away, lifted my chin with the tip of his fingers for my eyes to meet his. I had stopped screaming, sobbing, I was motionless. I was staring at him; his eyes were sinking into mine. His look inspired nothing else than kindness, safety, quietness. He spoke again with the same soothing tone:

 **-Tell me, chica, did I ever tell you the definition of… "insanity"…?**

 **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!**


End file.
